Empty shell
by Loren-Mac
Summary: A POV Anita fic. I wrote this late at night around Christmas time, 2003. Slightly Angsty I think.


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The pain grows in my heart and I just want to give in, let go of all that I struggle to hold onto. But in the end, we all have an inner strength, we were not made to fall, we were not made to give up. As the days have passed by my inner strength has faded and I am weak. I am reduced to the nothing that I always pretended I wasn't. I have no reason to pretend now though, I'm all alone, stranded and far from where my heart lies. He took my heart with him, he took my world away from me, the world I spent so long creating. 

In a way he has helped me, I have become myself again and let go of the façade. The only problem is, I don't like who I am and with each rising of the sun, that marks the new day, I learn more about myself and hate myself more. I hate myself because I _am_ so weak, I am not in control of myself, I am hurt and confused… vulnerable.

Sometimes I can even laugh about it, I was so foolish, I led myself, lamb to slaughter, to love. When he took that love away I felt so deprived, so alone, and now… now I'm just an empty shell. This empty shell will just sit and wait until one day it is crushed and it's all over. No more hurt, no more pain and to me… to me, that seems so tempting, but I cannot let go, not now. I've tried so hard to battle through life and I've made it so far, I can just carry on making it. Living life as this shell is hard, each day I long to be filled again, I long to have him back, but It's too much to hope for, I'm wishing on a star too far away now. I just have to move on, somehow, somehow I'll get past all this- I'll wake up one day and be over him. Somehow I'll stop asking myself why- I'll stop longing to ask him what the hell I've done. And maybe somehow and someday I'll be able to speak to him again- I'd love to see if he knows what he's done to me, what he's reduced me to. He probably doesn't. If I know him at all he'll be going on as normal, but then again, I obviously didn't know him. 

Do you know what the funny thing is? The funny thing is that I long to know why, when deep down inside I really know why. It wasn't that he didn't love me, no way, that's to simple for him. I wondered if it was because he was afraid, it could have been but he was afraid in the beginning wasn't he? He was afraid then but her risked it, he took a chance on me and I took the same chance on him. No, he wasn't afraid, he'd have come to me about that. What really happened in his head was that he slowly began to realise what he'd done, it began to register in his mind that he'd left a lot behind. He missed it all back at Holby too much, I can't believe I didn't see it. I guess you can't see it when it's personal, or maybe you just don't want to, either way I just didn't.

I remember waking up to the sound of the car pulling away, he called to me and told me he was sorry, but he knew I could handle it. He _thought_ I could handle it, really he knew nothing, no ones infallible, no one can really feel no pain, after all, I'm human just like he is. He can't have loved me or he'd be crying with each night that came upon him. He'd be dying outside and be close to letting go, and then he'd be dying on the outside too. He doesn't understand pain like this, if he did then he wouldn't have put me through this, he wouldn't have been able to have left me. When you feel so tired and weak you feel there is nothing to do but give up. I'm tired- I've cried so much that my whole body shakes. I'm drained now and cannot go on, I should have held on for what I had back then, for now I have nothing- I am weak. I cannot breathe, and when I do it's so painful and draws every last ounce of energy from me.

He gave me so much love and it's just so hard, a psychiatrist should not get like this, and yet now that my façade's gone, I'm not the strong, independent psychiatrist that I once was. He took away from me so much, he took my independence and replaced it with need. He took away my self-stability and made me rely on others for happiness. And through all this he broke through my defences and broke down that wall- wasn't that my job? - Doing this he failed me and left me a wreck, he made me such a state that if I had to analyse myself I'd be lost. I always promised myself that I wouldn't fall in love and allow myself to loose control, I saw that crash and burn in my mother's abusive marriage. My childhood led me to armour myself, I could diagnose that one at least. 

The thing was, I let it happen, simply because it felt so good so true and so pure. It made me come alive, despite the fact that I hid my real feelings to him half of the time. When I asked him to mend my heart, and he agreed, I really hoped he would, I hoped he could allow me to trust people fully. I believed he could because he'd done so well, got so far with me already. I guess I have now realised that without an operating theatre and a physically broken heart, he was weak, just like me.

His words were amazing and sent shivers down my spine and hope to my heart, but in the end they were _only_ words. Beyond the words and empty promises be was just a man whom was attached to his job and afraid of getting 'involved'. That's all he'll ever be, and yet I love him, and I know, if only for one simple second, he loved me too. 

One look from him and I felt so alive, and he seemed the most amazing man on earth. He felt pain and I felt it too, just because I loved him and I'd have rather felt pain than see _him_ hurt. When he laughed my insides rang with happiness, it was the most fantastic feeling. Yet, the greatest feeling of them all was when I woke up next to him, because I woke up to the feeling of love and freedom, and I knew that he was mine. 

I really and truly am that empty shell that sails through each day, just waiting to be crushed. Maybe someday I will find myself full and whole again, but I will keep on going until that day. It's hard and I live each day hoping for him to come through those doors and tell me he loves me and he's back forever. He really did do something to me in which I cannot undo, and so this shell shall scatter on with a bounce in her step because she can feel and she can breathe... at last. And for that, she has him and the pain he caused to thank. 

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